Dreamers
by CR5141
Summary: Jim dreams of him every night-his possessive alien lover who refuses to let him go. When the dreams start becoming a reality, who will win?
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:**__ Star Trek 2009 does not belong to me. This story is merely internal musings stemming from an insane author who is obsessed with the idea of 'what if?_'

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_**Warning:**_ This story contains slash, which refers to a malexmale pairing. If it is not your cup of tea, I suggest you leave.

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**Dreamers **

_**Part One**_

"Look. I don't want this. Just let me go." Blue eyes stared imploringly at the taller figure.

"I must regret to inform you that I cannot. You are mine." And with that pronouncement, the taller and stronger male stalked closer to the smaller male.

He continued, "Every part of you belongs to me. There is no place in the universe that will hide you from me. So, why not give up?" He placed a hand on the smaller male's trembling body. "I promise that the surrender will be_ gentle_," he whispered into the delicate ear.

The smaller male shuddered, almost tempted to give into the seductive promises of the elder male, but then he remembers why he's fighting and it energized him.

"N-no, no..."

"Very well. I will have to persuade you a little_ harder_ then."

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_Shit!_ He woke up with a start. Ever since he started puberty, he's been having dreams. Dreams that he really doesn't understand. It's not like he wants to dream about some older man dominating, no possessing him.

He doesn't want to wake up with a desperate hard on that he'll have to take to care of in the damn shower, but it ends up happening regardless.

He grasps his head in his hands ignoring that damn hard on and will his body to relax. He doesn't have the time or the desire to deal with it.

He glances at the time. Shit! He's late. He jumps out of bed and makes a start for the shower. And thus, the day begins for James T. Kirk, bus boy extraordinaire in the bustling city of San Francisco.

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He barely made it in time.

"Wow, Kirk. Talk about making it by the skin of your teeth," a dark haired woman stated with a sneer.

Jim rolled his eyes. Nyota Uhura was a waitress with a stick up her ass because she was an elite Starfleet cadet.

"Whatever, Uhura. Don't you have something better to do?" She huffed at his brush off and turned away at the call of a fellow waiter.

He made his way to the locker room and put on a worn white smock covered in numerous grease stains. He stared at it in distaste and sighed. Time to earn his rent money.

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Jim is satisfied when he hears the tell tale crack from his back that releases some of the ache caused by bending over tables and being on his feet all day. Eight fifty an hour shouldn't be worth the pain, but he had to make ends meet. Especially, since he hadn't graduated from high school.

He was lucky to be where he was today. Except, he didn't feel so lucky.

He was stuck in a dead end job with a low salary that barely met the expenses of his rent, not to mention his food bills in a city where everything was so expensive.

He thought about his life in Iowa and shudders at the dark memories. He doesn't want to go there. After all, he's spent his whole life running. What's a little more?

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Once again, he is dreaming. Maybe, this time he won't half to deal with_ that _man, if he was even a man. Jim can never tell. His features are always obscured and well Jim has more than enough reason to be distracted by his sensual actions.

The only thing that Jim knew for certain was that the mystery being was a male. The groin pressed against his back with its hard length assured him of that fact.

Jim barely holds back a moan when he felt hands brushing against his back.

"Did you miss me, _ashaya_?" Warm breath tickled the back of his ear and he shuddered. The voice continues in a low breathy tone that sounds smooth like dark chocolate, "For I have missed you very-," Jim cannot hold back a groan when the top of his ear is nipped, "much."

"What does that word mean?" Jim asked trying to distract the other male from continuing his pleasurable assault upon his person.

"It means beloved for I will always _care_ for you. Members of my race do not usually acknowledge their partners, but I am different, that I promise you." And then as if to assure Jim of his promise-the male rubbed two fingers on top of Jim's, twisting them together like the infinity sign.

Jim catalogued the information into his memory bank, to be analyzed at a later time and focused on the pleasant sensations running through him. He wanted to enjoy it while he still can.

And like a switch, his mystery man becomes a little rougher and always asks for the only thing that Jim will not give him: his unconditional surrender.

"Ashaya, will you surrender? Will give yourself to me?"

Jim's dignity tells him to say no. He doesn't want to submit to someone else because his pride is the only thing he has left.

"I ca-cannot," Jim said. His throat was uncomfortably dry and his tongue was uncooperative almost as if it wanted to rebel against Jim.

"Cannot or will not?"

Jim stubbornly closed his mouth refusing to elaborate further.

He felt himself fade into sweet nothingness, but shuddered as he remembered the alien's haunting parting words.

"Nothing will part us. Nothing…"

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A couple of days later, Jim found himself at the local library. It was a tall, sprawling building filled with rows of antique paperback books. Many critics considered the books to be obsolete and a waste of space due to the fact that all information was available digitally, but left the relics of the past alone.

He went to a PADD, scrolled through the search engine and typed in, "Symbols of Dreams."

There were more than a million hits. He clicked on the first link that looked promising.

**Dream Symbolism **

_By: Maria Telat, M.D., Psy. D_

_In oftentimes, dreams have often been symbols of our innermost unconscious feelings and desires. It has been said that certain facets of dreams have been known to show up in reality. Foremer et al. reported in a study that over eighty percent of the people questioned found that some facet of their dream became a reality. _

_For example, one member of the study recalled seeing the sign, "Vanderbille is shutting down," during a dream. Two weeks later, while watching the news, the woman was shocked to find that the Vanderbille Hotel was shutting down due to a gruesome double murder of both the hotel manager and cleaning maid._

_In another case, a young girl dreamt of being in a shuttle crash on Flight 107. She refused to go on the shuttle and at her parent's insistence, it was checked for abnormalities. Officials were startled to find that the engine was damaged and would have killed everyone in the air had the damage not been found. _

_The term, "déjà vu," has often been used to describe the set of circumstances in which something in reality seems startlingly familiar, as if the person had seen it before in a dream or unconscious situation. Others believe that the term "kismet," which alludes to the idea that some things are fated to happen explain the extraordinary power of dreams._

_Regardless of one's personal beliefs, one should always take note of one's dreams, for their potential power is untapped…_

Jim looked through a couple of more articles and they all essentially said the same thing: Listen to your dreams. Well, that was helpful, but what was it saying about his mystery being.

That he invaded Jim's dreams for the sole purpose of torturing him?

Well, wasn't that wonderful?


	2. Chapter 2

**Dreamers**

_**Part Two**_

The world moves on, but the dreams don't stop. They continue to haunt Jim night after night, leaving him desperately wanting it to end, but oh so secretly hoping that they will never stop. After all, it was kind of nice that someone wanted him, even if that someone's attentions were not entirely welcome because he's lonely and if he were to kneel over the next minute, no one would care.

One day, while he's cleaning a table at the café, he sees an out-of-the-ordinary customer sitting at a table next to a window overlooking the bustling streets of San Francisco.

The being is a male with pointed ears, but he doesn't have a great vantage point to speculate further. So called aliens aren't frequent visitors of the café, despite the fact that the café is located in the city known to have one of the largest populations of extra terrestrial beings. It's not Jim's first contact with aliens, but something about the customer was strangely familiar.

Jim can't put his finger on it, but he knows the male from somewhere.

"Kirk, where are those dishes?" Jim is startled out of his reverie and rushed to finish his job. After all, it's not the time to be daydreaming.

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The next night, he doesn't fall asleep immediately. He's too wired up on caffeine, so he pulls out an old knock off PADD that he bought from a junk shop. The PADD is ridiculously slow and can perform only the most basic functions before it overloads and shuts down, but Jim is proud of the fact that he managed to repair and get it to work at all.

Jim hasn't had the opportunity to use his computer skills since he dropped out of school and left Iowa with nothing, but the clothes on his back, a couple of old photos of his father and mother in their more happier moments that Jim treasured and a hundred credits in his pocket.

He is casually glancing at local events when he happens upon an event poster announcing the coming of an intergalactic technology convention in San Francisco.

Jim checks the date and time. If he switches a shift with a coworker that owes him one, he might be able to swing it and attend for a couple of hours.

So, he makes the switches and gets himself there. Ironically, Jim feels like he's Cinderella about to go to the ball. But in that case, who would be his mysterious prince?

His mind immediately flashes back to the intruder of his dreams. His alien lover who wanted _everything_ from him. Heat fills his cheeks and he wonders at that moment if his body will ever stop betraying him.

Not likely.

It seemed that every time the intruder even put a finger on his body, his body, traitor that it was, would automatically relax and urge the intruder to continue with the his ministrations.

His body is very willing to completely surrender, but his mind is not.

And it probably never will be.

Not after Kansas.

And Frank.

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Thousands of people are lined up to see the technological marvels that continue to change the world at an accelerating pace. Some inventions seem absolutely useless to Jim who knows that gizmos need to have a specific function, not just look pretty and take up space.

While others, astound him and make him wonder about the future and his place in it. Will he make a wave in the future? Or will he simply fade away in the darkness and go out with a whimper?

Immersed by his inner musings, Jim doesn't realize that he has veered off course from the straight and narrow booths that were the stars of the shiny glass and sleek metal convention hall.

The section that he has entered contains fewer people than it deserves, but then again it was the Computer Science section. The average everyday citizen was already fluent with PADDS. It was rather hard not to have such a basic and necessary life skill.

Thus, people did not appreciate the mastery and complexity needed to write code and all that other technobabble that they really didn't care about. After all, who cares how something works, so long as you can use it, right?

Jim scans the booths when a simple, but aesthetic chrome booth manned by a familiar stranger catches his attention. It was the man from the café or alien rather.

The sign in front of the booth is written in code. It looks like something that would take a level 4-rated expert to decipher. Jim takes the challenge head on and goes over it in his mind. Tricky, he thinks as his mind goes over the numbers and then puts them in reverse order in his head. Definitely tricky.

Jim is satisfied when he finally has it deciphered in his mind, though the message is surprising. Who would think that an alien could be so sarcastic?

He snickers and turns around, ready to leave when the alien gestures for him to come closer. He doesn't understand why he doesn't just leave, but something compels his legs to approach the booth.

The alien has common human features: jet-black hair and deep brown eyes, but the pointed ears give away his otherworldliness.

Wrapped up in his examination of the alien, Jim almost misses the alien's greeting.

"I am 95.8% certain that you have solved the code using parameters different from the norm. Few would be able to solve the code using standard methods, let alone in the space of 2.3 minutes. Those few that I am aware of are all in Starfleet, so why have not I met you before?" the alien questioned.

Before Jim's brain can even analyze the underlying connotations of the alien's introduction, his mouth moves, "Don't you ever talk in shorter sentences?"

He blushes when he realizes what he just blurted out. "I'm Jim, by the way." He hesitantly holds out his hand to make a customary handshake when the alien stares at his hand or maybe it's his casual introduction rather disapprovingly.

"I am known as S'chn T'gai Spock, but most humans cannot pronounce my name, so you may call me Spock," he says stiffly.

Jim moves his hand back to his side when he realizes that Spock doesn't plan on shaking it.

Right. This wasn't awkward at all.

He nervously laughs and decides to end the conversation if it could even be called that. "Well it was a pleasure meeting you, Spock."

And turns around to leave, but before Jim can complete his departure, Spock cuts in. "I noticed that you did not answer my question. Who are you, 'Jim'?"

"Look. I don't know why you're so interested in me, but I'm nobody. Just nobody," Jim states, his voice becoming sharper towards the end.

Then, he leaves because his issues don't need tissues.


End file.
